


who is in control?

by darkjoshler



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom!Michael, F/M, caring michael towards the end bc i'm a complete sucker for soft son o satan, moderate BDSM, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 02:34:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16673119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkjoshler/pseuds/darkjoshler
Summary: Michael visits and takes a liking to you.





	who is in control?

**Author's Note:**

> i love michael langdon with every part of my soul and i've wanted to write a one shot of him for a while so i just kinda did it. it's possibly/probably terrible and the ending is definitely awful bc i never know how to end smut one shots but whatever i apologise. and yes, i got the title from 'control' bc i saw an edit n now i associate the song w/ him. imma shut up now. go read.

He was here, finally. The spawn of your Lord, the Anti-Christ, Michael Langdon. His visit had been anticipated for months, countless days and nights of preparation leading up to his arrival, and the day had, at long last, come. The dawning could begin. 

You'd heard of his beauty from untold sources, but nothing could prepare you for the first moment you saw him. He was a tall, intimidating man, but he had the features of an angel - much like the prophecies had said he would. Startling blue eyes beamed from the sockets of a delicate but meticulously sculpted face, chiselled cheekbones and a keen jawline enveloped in dirty-blonde curls; messy in the most precise way. Even the way he spoke, softly, but with a confidence that suggested he knew full-well that even his gentlest of tones could bring a man, or anybody for that matter, to their knees in a second, wilfully at his disposal. You'd never been so attracted to a person in your life. 

But you knew that he was completely untouchable, beyond the grasp of any mere mortal such as yourself. So where the others fawned and fussed, eager to get any piece of him that they could, you distanced yourself, trying to be respectful in a way that allowed your fantasies to flourish. That was your first mistake.

"Y/N, Mr Langdon has requested your company for dinner this evening." 

You looked up from your book and scoffed. "Yeah, sure he has." 

"I suggest you accept. There are many others who have sacrificed much more for much less than a private meeting. You should be honoured."

You stared at her in silence for a few seconds. "There is no way you're serious right now." 

"I'd never put words in the mouth of our Saviour. That would be blasphemy."

You swallowed, the smile dropping from your face, blinking before trying to force out a response. “I-I,” you stuttered, staring at the woman in the doorway with utter shock as you wracked your brain for anything of coherence. “I don’t have anything to wear,” was all you could manage. 

“Mr Langdon has supplied your attire for the evening. Follow me.” Madelyn stood at the entrance to your small dorm, bearing a sickly-sweet smile. She was a mother figure to the others, a complete suck up when it came to Michael, but she’d always held a grudge against you. Previously she’d had no reason to, now though, you feared that she did.

But you weren’t going to let her come between you and an encounter you thought would only happen (as it regularly did) in your wildest dreams. And so, you followed her out of your room and down the narrow halls, through a door that instructed ‘Authorised Personnel Only’ and into a separate corridor you’d never seen before. 

Everything was red inside, the floors, walls, doors to rooms you could only imagine were just as consistent in colour. Even the candles that lit the narrow space dripped wax that dried like clotted blood.

Madelyn led you into a room that was lit simply by a fire and the same blood-red candles dotted around. The walls and floor were tiled with a nude marble, and the only decor was a set of black leather lounge chairs; a black and white marble coffee table topped with various bottles of what you presumed to be liquor, a floor length mirror and a large, white, fur rug laid in front of the fire. It was effortlessly chic and fiercely dangerous. These were Langdon’s quarters. 

“Mr Langdon has instructed that you wear everything he has given you. He expects to see every gift on your body.” 

You looked over to the bed, where four black, elegantly ribbon-wrapped boxes laid upon the red satin sheets. You walked towards them cautiously, hearing the door click shut behind you as you made your way over to your gifts, signalling you were now alone. This seemed completely unrealistic and way too good to be true, but in the moment you chose to embrace it, reaching for the biggest box first and pulling the knot from the ribbon. 

Inside was a white, fur stole; incredibly soft to the touch and the most luxurious item of clothing you’d ever seen. You lifted if from the box, pressing it against your cheek for a second before putting it to one side. Underneath was a slip dress that looked to be made of the same blood-red satin as the bedclothes. You pulled it towards your body, it was a gown, floor length with a plunging neckline that made your stomach turn.  
The other boxes held equally mesmerising items. Black velvet Louboutins in one and an intricately crafted set of white diamond jewellery in the other; a choker, a bracelet and earrings, all of the same, expensive-looking gem. 

It wasn’t until you reached the final box that your heart dropped. Inside was a set of lace lingerie, colour theme still intact, beautifully embroidered and normally a sight you’d rejoice at. But as Madelyn’s words replayed over and over in your head you realised that none of these gifts were for your enjoyment, and if he planned on seeing you in this lingerie, this evening probably had more in store than just a dinner date.

Still, he was Michael Langdon, and you’d happily do anything to please him. Anything. 

So you got dressed, downed a glass of liquid that made your throat burn and took a moment to admire your reflection in the mirror. You’d never dressed like this before. You felt hot, and as the door opened for Madelyn to lead you to the dining hall, you had all the confidence in the world. 

It left the second you saw him. Madelyn waited outside, letting you walk into the spacious room alone. He was sat at the table with his back to you, not turning as you walked towards him. A waitress scuttled towards your chair, pulling it out for you as you sat down, thanking her timidly. And then there was silence. 

He eyed you mercilessly as he brought his lips to his glass, as if drinking in your every feature with his wine. “I trust everything was to your satisfaction.” He spoke, in that same, silk voice.  
You had to snap yourself out of a trance to reply. “Y-yes. Everything is beautiful, I’m very grateful.” 

“Good.” He took another sip of wine, continuing to stare at you shamelessly. You tried to keep his gaze but found yourself looking at everything but him, nervously taking sips of your own drink. 

“Do you know why I asked you here this evening (Y/N).” 

You gasped at the sound of your name on his tongue. You never wanted to hear it from another mouth. “Um… I-I’m not sure I do Sir.”

A small smile formed on his lips. “Well then, I’ll get to the point. Your mind is very loud (Y/N), and your soul wishes for some very dark things. Usually, this is encouraged, however you’re not like the others. They aren’t afraid to go after what they want, but you, you’re scared, ashamed, a coward.” 

You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, the kind that you were sure would be visible on your face. 

“And now you’re embarrassed. Because you know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you?.” 

“I-I don’t-“ 

“Don’t lie to me. I don’t like that.” He ordered, leaning forward from his previously relaxed demeanour from across the table. 

You kept your eyes low, knowing you had no other choice but to confess. “I was trying to be respectful. I tried to keep my desires to myself.” 

“Yes. For your eyes only when you’re alone in your room at night. But let me ask you something (Y/N).” 

You finally allowed yourself to look at him. 

“Why would you want to do something silly like that? Because now the only way you’ll be forgiven is if you confess. And don’t hold back, because I’ve seen it all.” 

You kept your eyes low, ashamed to look at him, ashamed of the watchful eyes of the staff around you as you told him all the things you wanted him to do to you.  
“I want you to ruin me.” You whispered, barely audible. 

“Speak up. I don’t think they can hear you.” 

You took a deep breath. “I want you to ruin me. Break me. Use me, any way you want just-... Please?” You spoke, louder this time, raising your gaze slightly to look at him. He was still staring at you, that same cold, merciless stare that made you shrink into yourself. 

"You're refusing yourself the pleasure you crave. My father doesn't approve of that, so I won't allow it. Refusing sin is blasphemy. With-holding your most primal urges is cowardice. I hate liars but I despise cowards." His voice was low, almost a growl as he got up from the table, walking over to you casually, his hands locked behind his back. "So I'm going to give you a chance to repent, to pay for the crimes you have committed against your faith." He stopped in front of you, close enough that you had to lift your gaze fully to look him in the eye. The confidence to do so, however, failed you, and you gulped, staring into the black abyss seeming to form in the fabric of his shirt. "Get up."

You stood from your chair hesitantly, your new stance bringing the two of you even closer. You could feel his hot breath on your forehead, smell his spiced cologne, but you still couldn't bring yourself to meet his harsh eyes, only watch the way his Adam's apple moved as he spoke.

"Now, as much as you deserve to be fucked right here on the table in front of everyone like the whore you are. I happen to have a little more respect for myself... take her to my room." 

A woman scuttled over to you, standing by your side, waiting for you to follow her. You allowed yourself to glance up at him, just for a moment, but it was enough. His eyes were dark, hungry, daring you to defy him without even uttering a word. You quickly looked away and followed the girl out of the dining hall and back to his quarters where she left you alone in a room furnished the same as the other you'd seen, with the exception of a black oak dresser beside the bed. You stood at the foot of the bed, your breath heavy in your lungs as you contemplated what was to come. You'd told him your darkest secrets, but of course, he'd already known, and as the door opened and shut from behind you, and you heard the pacing of footsteps getting closer, you finally let the realisation begin to sink in. This was real. 

He stopped beside you and took your hand, leading you over to the chairs by the fire and positioning you in front of him as he sat down. "The fur. Drop it."  
You immediately unbuttoned the stole, letting it slip from your shoulders and on to the floor.

"The diamonds."

You removed them with care, placing them delicately on the marble table. 

"Now the dress."

You slowly pushed one strap from your shoulder, feeling the fabric begin to sink. You wrapped your arm around the bodice, stopping it from falling completely. 

"Don't be shy now. I've seen a lot more of you than this from your own thoughts." 

You let it slip, pooling at your feet. The fire crackled behind you, you were sure it would warm you if you could feel anything. It was as if all of your senses were focused on pleasing him. You didn't care about yourself anymore. You surrendered yourself to him a little more with every movement of his eyes over your lace-clad body. 

"I knew they'd be perfect." He spoke, more to himself. "Come here."

You walked towards him, the click of your heels against the marble floor the only sound besides the crackle of the fire. You stopped in front of him, and with the guidance of his hands on your hips you came down to straddle his thigh. 

"First you have to show me how desperate you are. But don't cum, your orgasm belongs to me until I think you've earned it. Do you understand?" 

"Yes."

"Yes, Sir." He corrected.

"Y-yes Sir." You whispered, just the feeling of his thigh against you leaving you breathless. 

He began to guide your hips, pulling you towards him. The initial wave of pleasure made you gasp and he chuckled, pressing his fingers harder into your skin. You began to move against him, your head rolling forward lazily as you sank into the feeling. He brought a hand to your throat, forcefully lifting your gaze. "Head up. Look at me." 

An involuntary whispered moan fell from your lips, the restriction of breath and waves of pleasure sending you into a daze. 

"What did I tell you earlier, huh? Don't hold back. Don't be a fucking coward." 

You nodded, continuing your movements with desperation. He returned both of his hands to your hips, forcing you down harder against him, dissatisfied with your silence. Your breath caught in your throat, a vulgar moan escaping your mouth. 

"That's it." He spoke softly, brushing his thumb gently against your hip-bone. 

The pit in your stomach grew by the second. It felt as if every point of contact you had with the man beneath you was vibrating, his fingers seemingly touching every nerve in your body. He lifted a hand to tangle it in your hair, tugging slightly and emitting another moan from your lips. 

Even at this stage of minimal contact, he had full control over you, driving you further and further towards your end. "M-Michael." You whined, feeling your legs begin to tremble. 

He halted your movements, his hands resuming their position on your hips to stop you from getting any further. You looked at him with pleading eyes, the loss of stimulation making you needy. "Did I say you could use my name, slut?" 

You blinked at him a few times, your mouth opening and shutting, trying to create words to no avail.

"It's Sir to you, okay? If you wanna cum that's what you'll call me." 

You nodded, swallowing nervously. 

"Take everything off. Lay on the bed." He lifted you lightly from his lap, absentmindedly helping you find your balance on weak legs. You stepped out of your heels, the tiles unexpectedly warm on the soles of your feet. He looked at you through dark eyes, his face stern, cold. "Don't make me wait (Y/N)." 

You tentatively reached behind your back, unhooking your bra and letting it fall from your body in one swift movement. Next was your underwear, pushed down lightly past your hips and allowed to slip to the floor with bated breath as you waited for him to speak. He stepped towards you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and bringing your gaze to meet his. "You could have anyone you wanted. I don't want you to be scared of anything anymore, okay?" 

"O-okay."

"On the bed. Now." 

You nodded, walking past him and laying on the bed, sinking into the satin pillows that smelt like him. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with his scent as he walked over to the dresser, pulling open the top drawer and producing a wound up red rope, turning towards you with a blank expression. "You thought about this. You got so worked up you had to excuse yourself from dinner to go make yourself cum." He spoke softly, lifting your hands above your head and tying them to the headboard, grunting slightly as he pulled the restraints as tight as they could go. You stayed silent, watching him work with adoration. He pulled at your hands one last time before picking up a lit candle from the bedside table and lifting it above your body, letting a few drops of hot, red wax fall onto your stomach. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut with pained pleasure. You'd fantasised about this many times, and now, as it was happening, the thought that he knew how hot he'd made you made the experience even better. He repeated the action, seemingly unfazed by the whole situation. 

He spoke, his tone void of emotion. "Does it hurt?" 

"Y-yes Sir." 

He spilt it on your bare breasts, making you flinch as a drop fell against your nipple. "Good." 

He continued his actions for a while, taking a sharp intake of breath every time you moaned, the slightest of smirks forming on his lips when you began writhing around against the sheets. "So pretty." He whispered, placing the candle down. "So needy." He began to untie the ropes around your hands, helping you off of the bed and leading you back over to the armchairs, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it to the side. You took the signal, immediately dropping to your knees in front of him. He looked down at you, a small smile on his lips as you desperately tugged at his belt, waiting for his permission. "So willing... Go ahead kitten."

You got to work undoing his belt and pants, pulling them down, leaving him standing in just his boxers, the outline of his semi slightly tenting the black material. You nipped at him, hearing him gasp as your lips came into contact with his clothed cock. You continued with your light touches until you were satisfied he was hard enough, and then, holding your breath, you freed him from the black material that was blocking your view of the part of him you wanted to see most. An involuntary squeak sounded in your throat as you studied his size, the smooth, cleanly shaven patch of skin at the base and the single vein running up the underside of his shaft. His tip was already slick with pre-cum, a consequence of your earlier teasing and a sight that made you bite down on your lower lip with a needy sigh. With little force, you brought your hands to his thighs, pushing him down into the chair behind him. 

You began slowly, wrapping your hand around the base and taking small, teasing licks of his tip, lapping up the pre-cum with a hunger that was already taking over. He gasped, bringing his hand to your face, his thumb swiping over your ear gently as his fingers put slight pressure on the back of your neck affectionately. You hummed, content with the sounds he was making, but desperate to see him as worked up as you were, even though he had the self-control you didn't possess to hide it. You decided to challenge him, taking him into your mouth fully and catching him by surprise. His grip on the back of your neck tightened, his free hand slamming down on the arm of the chair as his breath caught in his throat, a choked groan falling from his lips. "F-fuck." He stuttered, trying desperately to keep his cool. "That's it (Y/N)." 

You looked up to see him; lit by the orange glow of the fire; head thrown lazily back against the chair; Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat when he swallowed; chest rising and falling with pace; his tongue occasionally appearing to lick his lips before retreating back into his mouth. He looked beautiful.

"Just like that kitten." He spoke breathlessly, tangling his fingers in your hair. 

You struggled to take all of him, meeting your lips with your hand as you pumped what you couldn't take with your fist. You were audible and messy, moaning against his cock as spit began to dribble from your mouth, making him slick and wet. You wanted nothing more than to climb on top of him, but patiently waited for your cue, eager to make him cum as many times as he wanted. 

"Get up here." He groaned. You pulled away, looking up at him with wide eyes before you remembered how in tune he was with your thoughts, quickly getting to your feet and straddling him. He positioned one hand on your waist, using the other to tease your entrance with his tip. You moaned, gathering all the will you had not to defy him and take matters into your own hands. 

"Beg." 

You groaned, digging your nails into his chest, frustrated. 

"Beg." He repeated sternly.

"Please." You whined, wiggling your hips around, growing more impatient by the second. 

"Please, what?"

"P-please, please Sir."

"Good girl." He spoke, allowing you to sink down on to him, moving his hand to your hip to guide you.

You let a strung out moan escape your mouth as you felt him fill you up, digging your nails into his flesh again, coaxing out a throaty groan from his lips. 

He threw his head back, muttering to himself. "God, you're so tight," was the only thing of coherence before he brought his gaze back to you, watching you with hungry eyes as you bounced on his cock. He removed one hand from your hip and brought it to the point where the two of you met, the new pressure on your clit driving you insane. 

You could feel the pit growing again, the tension in your muscles building to a point where you were only just keeping it together. "P-please let me cum Sir." You groaned, staring at him with pleading eyes. 

"Not yet kitten. Not until I say." He spoke breathlessly, increasing the speed of the circles he was rubbing on your clit. He was sadistic, keeping you on the edge as you moaned and whined, obviously ready to let go but trying your best to do as he said. 

"Please, Sir." You whined, feeling the wave that would end it all fast approaching. "I-I can't."

"Yes you can, and you will." He spoke, suddenly serious. He got up, your ass in his hands as he walked over to the bed, laying you down and lifting your hands above your head before re-tying your ropes. In one swift movement, he lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder and thrust into you suddenly, the new angle giving him more depth. You yelped, pulling on your restraints as he pulled out slowly, repeating his action, this time hitting a spot deep inside you that made you cry out. 

"That's it." He spoke, pleased with himself. "Hold out for me kitten, you're doing so good." He juxtaposed his kind words with a strong hand around your throat, making you choke on your moans as he fucked you mercilessly, revelling in the control he had over you. You were just barely hanging on, focusing on the pain of your ropes, anything to help you be good for him. 

"M-Mi- Sir, that feels so good." 

He moved your leg from his shoulder and wrapped them both around his waist, reaching to untie your ropes and leaning down to bury his head in the crook of your neck. "You can say it kitten. It's okay." He whispered, his breath hot against your skin. 

You wrapped your arms tight around his neck as he almost cradled you, his hands locked behind your back. He was being softer now, he could tell how hard you were trying.

"M-Michael please." You choked out, still desperately attempting to ignore the pleasure radiating from your g-spot, which he was still somehow hitting repeatedly. 

"Okay kitten. Let go." He whispered, the words making the tension in your muscles release almost instantly, just a few more thrusts and you were unravelling underneath him, moaning his name as he fucked you through your orgasm, releasing inside you soon after, groaning your name into your neck.

You laid there for a while, both panting with him still inside you as you recovered from your highs before he rolled off you, instinctively pulling you in close to him. "You did so good kitten." He whispered, still slightly breathless as he pulled a sheet over two of you. You revelled in the feeling of having him so close, so kind, making you feel so safe. 

"How do you feel?" 

You thought for a second before speaking weakly, your throat hoarse. "My throat hurts." 

He chuckled. "Yeah, I bet it does."

"But I feel warm...content I guess. I haven't felt like this in a long time." 

"That's why you should give in. You'd have a lot more opportunities to feel good if you allowed yourself to go after what you want." 

"I know." You whispered. "I just can't let go sometimes. Getting what I want makes me feel guilty. Like, everyone here's gonna hate me now."

"I'll deal with them. You just get some rest, and when you wake up, you won't want for anything anymore. You're mine."

You hummed in response, turning into him and smiling softly as his arms pulled you in even tighter. You truly didn't want for anything more than this.


End file.
